Awakening the Past
by Kala Dawson
Summary: A war, devestating to Middle-Earth and its inhabitants rages out, killing all in its wake. Elrond is the last of the Elves to die, frozen in a blizzard. Foward to 2002, an archeology dig by someone special uncovers what he least expected. New chapter.
1. The War

Comments: This idea came to me during a boring session of math class. What can I say? I hope this works, this is almost a first draft, which means that after I post this and read it, there will be changes made. Bear with me. Thanks. :)  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Elrond Peredhil gripped the smooth marble rails of the balcony, his star- grayed eyes gazing out into the dark of the night. Orcs were invading again, their numbers rising and their evil doubling. Sauron had no part in this, as the High Elves had discovered in confusion; no evil powers were directing the creatures this time around. But something else they had stumbled onto unnerved them.  
  
Orcs and Uruk-Hai alike were scouting all corners of Middle-Earth, nearly outnumbering those in their wake. It was almost impossible to comprehend how the gruesome numbers of the hideous beings enlarged in a short amount of time. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien proposed a take of leave, but Elrond, Cirdan, and Mithrandir refused profusely.  
  
Celeborn was confident that even now that Sauron's Ruling Ring had diminished, his evil was still widespread across the plains of their home. The Three remaining Rings could not even destroy it, the Elf had said, not even if they had tried. Mithrandir countered back by telling Celeborn he was a fool to believe it, and a coward to draw back. Nonetheless, Celeborn stayed his ground. He urged Elrond to join him, however, the Half-Elf found he could not. Even in his respect and love for the Lord of Lorien, he could not muster the strength to leave.  
  
Elladan and Elrohir, ever the faithful sons of Elrond, chose to remain with their father and sort the problems out. Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood stepped forward for an alliance of Rivendell Elves and Mirkwood, and even Thranduil, with difficulty, boldly stated he would help. Mithrandir collected the remaining armies of Gondor and lands around, hoping for a miracle.  
  
However, Celeborn and Galadriel fled. As both were wise and strong, they knew what would be the outcome of this madness. They bid farewell to the grounds they once loved, giving their own armies of Lorien into the hands of Elrond. Haldir was reluctant to see his Lord and Lady go, but he found he must fight for them. Finally, with troops assembled and plans made, the Elves and Men charged in full front.  
  
Elrond tore his eyes from the sky, turning sharply around to see Glorfindel in full armour, awaiting his orders. The Twins stood at his left, both decked in the golden armour of their House. Elrond himself bore his old army uniform from when he strode alongside Gil-Galad, the late Elven King of the West. Nodding promptly to them, the four made their ways through the deserted hallways, once neatly occupied with inhabitants, to the grounds below.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf stood awaiting their arrival, bow in hand. Mirkwood Elves were lined in defense of the Last Homely House, along with Imladris' own. Hideous shrieks and shrilled screams filled the pointed ears of all, the visible glistening of weapons in the air. Elrond held up his hand. As the Orcs and Uruk-Hai drew nearer, Legolas lifted his own. Arrows were cocked, swords drawn. Finally, as the creatures neared them, their hand went down and the battle began.  
  
Tiresome and bloody it was. Countless lives were lost from all points of Middle-Earth, each race diminishing quickly. Impossible as it may seem, it was happening. Elrohir and Elladan, brave and true, fell to their deaths against the swords of Orcs, Glorfindel slowly following suit. Legolas was killed from behind, and from the other side of Middle-Earth, Mithrandir and Cirdan were lost in battle. Hobbits were invaded and murdered, havoc raged across the land. Finally, Elrond felt he was the only one left.  
  
It was even growing colder and barren in the once majestic plains of Middle- Earth, crops dying, trees dwindling and food supplies lowering. It was almost obvious there was something going on, that everything was going to end up in chaos. The winters grew longer; the days of sun were few. Ice gripped the very landscapes, cutting off all hope for anything.  
  
He was certain he would die, that Middle-Earth would be gone forever. He cursed his life, he cursed his home, and he cursed his King. He regretted he did not heed Celeborn's sage advice, but nothing could be done about it now. This was the end.  
  
In the midst of battle, Elrond Peredhil guided his sword into his heart and died upon the ground as a brilliant snowstorm suddenly swept the Valley of Imladris.  
  
~*~  
  
TBC… 


	2. Discovery

Comments: Do keep in mind that this is a *rough draft* of sorts. Will be working on this. Thanks. ^^  
  
~*~  
  
Ian glanced around the site of his new archeological dig. The site had been chosen just a few days ago on an impulse, the need to scourge through these particular areas striking him on the spur of a moment. Something, he felt, was calling him; something that needed to be refound. Sighing, he pushed his hand through his spiked blonde hair and shrugged off his jacket. It was early in the morning, and not a soul in the camp even dared to rise this early. It was just a thrill of getting first dibs on their new camping ground, Ian thought, so he might as well get a head start.  
  
The man observed the scene. The place looked as old as time, the trees, shrubs, grass, and plants scattered about were unlike any other. It was almost as if he had stumbled onto forgein, sacred ground in a sense. There were a few crumbling yet majestic walls standing off to the side and around the place, all made lovingly and in exquisite detail. Ian narrowed his dark brown eyes. It was somehow eerily familiar to him, like had been here before. Shivering, he picked up his shovel and began to dig carefully.  
  
Just as he gotten only a few feet down into the ground, he was ever so cheerfully interrupted by one of his loyal, kind, and irritable mates on this dig. Twenty-one year old Byron Tyvek came stomping happily into Ian's space, bearing with him a picket, some brushes, paper, inks, pencils, and his ever-present camera, a bright smile upon his lips. Ian scowled, hunching over his shovel. Once again, he could not even have five minutes private dig to himself. Always stalked by… by *him*…  
  
"Hey there, Ian! My, you look rather flustered, woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag eh? My goodness, isn't this a nice spot! Quite familiar, I do say, strangely familiar. Don't you get that feeling too? Oh, did you taste that coffee we brought along? Awful stuff, really it is, and the creame is almost growing hai…"  
  
"Shut up, Pip." Ian glared at the shorter, younger man from under his eyebrows. "Just. Shut. Up."  
  
Pippin straightened up, scrunching his nose and setting down his belongings. "Well excuse me Ranger boy, I'm just here to do a dig." He began to sort the paper and writing utensils and the rest of his equipment while Ian slowly began digging again. A few seconds passed until Pippin stood back up, camera in hand. "Don't be so glum, Aragorn. Besides, we may find something useful here this time."  
  
Aragorn snorted. "That's what you said the last time. And the time before that."  
  
Pippin stuck out his tongue. "Aragorn, y'know I just wanna find the others."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Ian looked around lazily. Spotting something under some leaves, he went to inspect, barely listening to Pippin as he drawled on.  
  
"It's almost as if you don't even care that they're gone," he was saying, leaning against the shovel. "You act like you don't want to even find them! We were lucky enough to find Frodo, Merry, Legolas and Celeborn, but that was just pure luck and a stupid prank we were playing on the 'Net! Then again, we found Legolas behind a McDonald's counter, and man do you remember how embarrassed he was? Turned a five whole shades of red! Don't know how he recognized us, then again I don't know how I recognized you when I bumped into ya when you were busy havin' a smoke, but then again we found Merry flouncing about in the Banana Republic, so…" He glared at Ian. "Are you listening to me?"  
  
"Yes, Mother."  
  
Pip glared. "But hell, I care! It would kick ass if we could find anyone else, but it's probably a fat chance since we were all killed and stuff and only a few I guess can be reincarnated with our memories in tact, I mean we were really lucky and stuff to even realize that was *Legolas* behind a McDonald's counter, I say, that's really scary if you think about it, so chances are we're not…"  
  
"Y'mind shutting up for a moment and come look at this?" Bryon wandered over to where Ian was squatting, fingering a small something in his fingers. He looked down over his shoulder, eyeing it. Ian nibbled on his lip, flipping it over gently. "It's an Orc's arrowhead," he murmured quietly, half to himself and half to his comrade.  
  
"Well, that's the best we've seen in two years," Pippin countered, reaching down to grasp it. Ian reluctantly let him have it, starting to search around for any more evidence of Orcish arrows or more.  
  
Pippin placed the arrowhead onto a leaf, shooting a quick photo of it before depositing it into a bag he pulled from his pocket. Writing "Unidentified Arrowhead" for a label, event though he knew exactly what it was, he placed it carefully into his bag. Tucking his hair behind his ear, he looked around for Ian, but didn't find him.  
  
"Ian?"  
  
No response.  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
Crickets chirped.  
  
"Hey, Lego's ho!"  
  
"I'm over here, dammit!" Grinning madly, Pippin stalked over to where Aragorn's voice had come from, shovel in hand. He was ready to good- naturedly bonk him over the head with the tool when what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks, adopting Frodo's dear-in-the-headlights look for a precious moment. There, in front of his eyes, was Ian. But not just Ian. Ian holding a hand. A hand that came from the ground. The hand was attached to an arm that was buried in the ground. And breakfast almost revisited him.  
  
Most unlike Pippin, Aragorn was bewitched. He was totally excited about it, and he just kneeled there in the dirt, holding this utterly pale hand in his own tanned one. He couldn't get over it. "Lookit this, Pip! A *hand*! And still covered in flesh! Can you believe this? I wonder if we dig with our hands if we'll find that it's disembodied and…"  
  
"How about *you* dig and *I'll* stand here and try to keep my stomach in my gut."  
  
Aragorn smirked. "What a sissy. You haven't changed at all."  
  
"Neither have you, Mr. Still Not King."  
  
"Blech." Aragorn rolled up his sleeves, hands shaking in anticipation. Grabbing the soft dark dirt, he began to dig slowly, being cautious not to hurt anything or upset a thing. Pippin fumbled with a pouch tied around his neck, opening it and taking out its contents. Producing a long clay and wooden pipe from his bag, he stuffed some weed into the pipe and lit it hastily, puffing leisurely and watching Aragorn with keen eyes. Totally gross. He mildly began to wonder why he even bothered to even agreed to answer to that lost friend search Aragorn put out. Bah, humbug.  
  
Minutes passed before Aragorn dug deep enough to uncover an abdomen clothed in dirt smudged gold armour, much to his surprise. Digging frantically now, recognizing that specific detail of armour he had seen before in his mind, he managed to unearth legs, the other arm, a chest and neck. All was getting too personal and real for his liking, as well as Pippin's.  
  
Bryon now was leaning against a tree, looking around quickly as if he expected something to attack him at any given moment. When Aragorn hesitated he spoke out. "Aragorn, I'm getting a really bad feeling. Chills, really. I dunno if we should be here. Remember what happened to the guy who found King Tut? Yeah, he got blood poisoning from a mosquito bite, died in this hotel and halfway across the world in England at the same time he died his *dog* howled and dropped dead on the floor. I know this place is really really familiar to us both but…"  
  
"Pip."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"It has a pulse."  
  
Pippin paled. "You're kidding man. A body as pale and as ancient as that cannot have a fucking pulse. You're lying, dude. Stop scaring me. You haven't even uncovered his head."  
  
"No, I'm serious. He has a pulse."  
  
Threateningly, "Aragorn…"  
  
"Pip. I'm dead serious." His look told all. It went silent for a moment until Bryon shakily looked down.  
  
In a whisper, "Uncover his head already."  
  
Sighing heavily, Aragorn moved the dirt and grime away from the face, staring down in shock and utter disbelief at what he saw.  
  
"Lord Elrond!" 


	3. Oh gods...

Comments: Repeat with me: Rough. Draft. Rough. Draft. *g*  
  
~*~  
  
Without bothering to pick up his jaw from the ground, Pippin stared at the sickly pale body in shock, Aragorn following his overt example. "Oh. Fucking. God. Holy shit, I cannot believe this…"  
  
"M… maybe Ian, this really isn't Lord Elrond. I mean, it could just be an unidentified body someone dropped over here after a really bad live role- play war thing, I mean, it really can't be him…"  
  
Aragorn desperately checked the soil around the freezing, alive body, patting it with expert hands. "No, no, Pip, this soil has been untouched for thousands of years until I moved it," he trailed off, slicing his finger on something terribly sharp jutting out from the black dirt.  
  
While Aragorn cursed and started digging more to the left of the body, Pippin was busy stuffing his pipe into his bag and heading out. "I don't know what's going on here, Ian, but I've got an inkling that someone's gonna find us like this. I'm getting a body bag, I hope we brought some along, dammit," he wandered off muttering, leaving Ian with his own thoughts and bleeding hand. Aragorn didn't even notice him leave.  
  
Eyes flicking back to Elrond's motionless form every few seconds in fear of it moving all of a sudden – despite that pulse he found – he picked his way through the dirt to reveal a long slightly curved Elvish sword cloaked in dried blood and dirt with the tip of the blade facing Elrond's chest. Lifting it gingerly in his hands, Aragorn inspected the runes on the handle.  
  
Though he had been reincarnated, he was fortunate enough to remember who he was in the past, and had been blessed with the talent of reading Elvish runes as well. Thanking whatever Valar was still left, Aragorn read the lord's name and the valley he ruled over on the golden handle. Looking around in a scared wonder, he bluntly affirmed that this was indeed the ruins of Rivendell, and its master had died with it.  
  
Or so it seemed.  
  
Pippin returned hoarding a bag nearly twice his size, looking over his shoulder like a hunted fox. Dropping the bag in his partner's lap, he whispered, "The others are up and they think somethin's goin' on. If they see us carrying this back to the camp they'll want to know what it is, and there's no way in hell we're going to show them… *him*!"  
  
Snapping out of his daze, Ian sharply looked up at Pippin. "Then what do you propose we do?! Dress him in one of my extra pairs of jeans and shirt, snip off his hair and throw him over our shoulders, saying it was a confused hunter who lost his way during a rainstorm?! NO!"  
  
Peering over his shoulder abruptly, Ian continued in more hushed tone. "No one can know of this. We *must* get him back to the city."  
  
"The city," Pippin cried. "Are you out of your fuckin' mind?! And do what with him?"  
  
"Drop him off at the flat and haul ass back down here."  
  
"Oh, sure, and just how are we gonna do that?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"I'll phone Legolas." Pippin rolled his eyes, glancing down at Elrond's body, and swiped the cell phone away.  
  
"Elf-boy can't help us in this, Ian." Jumping back and muttering various swears, Pippin stomped his foot impatiently and threw the cell at Aragorn's knees. "God dammit, Ian, just do something with that body! It's totally freaking me out, I thought I just saw him move!"  
  
Aragorn shoved his cell back into his pocket, glaring at the smaller man. "While I do this, think of a way to smuggle him out of here. You *know* we can't leave him here. The others will find him and the existence of Elves will be ruined! You know what would happen."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know… gods, I hate dead bodies…"  
  
"What a wuss." Gently lifting the armoured, lean form from the muddy soil, Aragorn carefully placed the figure on the body bag, flicking away some dirt from his face and armour, gazing in awe at the Elven lord. "I think I've waited all my stupid reincarnated life to see him again…"  
  
"This is *not* a time to get mushy, dreamy, and poetic," Bryon snapped. Eyes grazing the trees, he began to panic when he saw dark forms looming through the brush. "Holy shit, Ian, they're coming," he hissed quickly to him. "Do something, do something, do something!"  
  
Aragorn fumbled around like a skittish rabbit, grabbing the sheets, towels, and covers from inside the bag and wrapping them all around Elrond's body, concealing him in a clumsy manner. Quickly the other men neared, and harder it became to wrap the Elven lord so it didn't seem *too* suspicious (really – who's going to think there's something fishy going on when there's a life-like form lying on the ground in bright child's Care Bear bed sheets and a towel that could easily be mistaken for a flattened Pokemon?)  
  
"Bryon? Ian?"  
  
Brad blinked slowly at the two men who stood side by side, almost glued together, looking as if they'd seen a ghost, and mysteriously like they were hiding something. "Are you two okay?"  
  
"PERFECTLY JOLLY HAPPY!" Bryon chirped out a bit too enthusiastically. "Nothing's wrong around here, everything's in tip top shape! NOTHING HERE, BOYS!!"  
  
Checking to see if his ears were bleeding, Ian calmly said, "I think we're both okay. Just wanted to get a head start, y'know?" Seeing them nod, he continued, "By the way, how's the coffee?"  
  
Brad wrinkled his nose. "Tastes like cat poo. Why?"  
  
"Oh, Bryon was just telling me about how he has several other packages of the stuff in the back of the car."  
  
Pippin stared up at him. "But I don't…"  
  
"No, you don't have a coffee maker, silly dolt, but you *do* have some cappuccino bags in the trunk for us just in case the coffee tasted like crap, right?"  
  
"'Ey, wot's that," Jerrie interjected, peering around the both of them. "Wot's be'ind ya?"  
  
Nervously looking behind him, Ian responded, "A bird."  
  
"Neh, lyin' on th'grawnd thayer."  
  
"It looks like a body," Brad exclaimed, paling immediately and looking squarely at Ian. Aragorn shifted uncomfortably, getting an idea and nodding vigorously.  
  
"Yes, yes it's a body. We just found it here, lying there, when we came. Looks about two weeks old, say, I've heard of a missing person thing going about! Must be him. We've got a body bag, and Bryon and I were thinkin' that maybe we should drive back to the city and deposit it at he police station, maybe someone can identify him!"  
  
Bryon bobbed his head up and down, grinning broadly. "Yeh! I mean really, they're prolly lookin' for them now!"  
  
Brad, skeptical as ever, retorted, "I'm sure you're hiding something else. What did you *really* find? Fess up, boys, what's going on?"  
  
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Squash.  
  
Wiping his shoe on the ground, Ian muttered, "We found a dead body, Brad, Jerrie, William. And we just need to do a good deed and take it to the city, or would you rather hang about with it for awhile?"  
  
"Point taken. Fine, take that thing to the city and come right back, you two. You know how the boss is about getting our work done."  
  
Bryon grinned again. "Great. C'mon, *IAN* let's go." As Aragorn picked up the body, Bryon bounced over and lifted the heavy sword, pulling a lopsided grin at the shocked looks. "Murder weapon.  
  
"I'm sure.  
  
~*~  
  
Bryon slapped Aragorn's back, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Great one back there, Gorny. Couldn't be betta."  
  
Eyes nervously looking at Elrond's body through the review mirror, Aragorn sighed, "We got fuckin' lucky that there had been some mysterious murder three weeks ago and the person was last seen around close to here." Driving off, he continued, "Oh well, Pip, I just hope… y'know…"  
  
"Yeh." Flicking on the CD player, he quickly lowered the volume as Enya came bursting out of the speakers. Silence passed through the Jeep, the only sound of Enya wafting through the air. It was a five hour drive back to the city, and a long one at that.  
  
After awhile Pippin climbed into the back seat to check on Elrond. Pressing the back of his hand to his cheek, he could slightly feel warmth rising to the pale face. Setting tufts of hair back around the pointed ear, Pippin met Aragorn's gaze through the mirror. They affirmed their thoughts silently before Pip climbed back to the passenger's seat.  
  
Hours flickered by like molasses in winter.  
  
Pippin, reaching behind his seat to grab a beer, caught a glimpse of Elrond's body shifting slightly. His heart leapt to his throat, but then he realized how bouncy the road was, so he thought nothing of it. Grabbing his beer, he froze again when low moans came from those pale lips; he grabbed the sleeve of Aragorn's shirt roughly, tugging it frantically. "Aragorn! Aragorn! He's waking up!  
  
"Shit!" Aragorn looked behind his shoulder briefly, just in time to see Elrond throw his head to the side wearily. Unconsciously pressing on the gas, he speeded towards the flat, mind only on the lord in his back seat. Pippin surveyed the body before turning around to see an intersection looming ahead, and a green light switching to an orange, then to red. Aragorn seemingly didn't take notice of this and was speeding down the street (it was a downhill) just as it turned red. Three cars were going through as the Jeep lurched forward toward them. Pippin's eyes turned into saucers.  
  
"ARAGORN!" 


	4. Awaken... Or Not

Comments: Need I say it again? *g* I just gots meselfs a nice Elrond action figure, so he'll be my muse for awhile. *G*  
  
~*~  
  
Adrian popped his head up from the bubbles at the melodiously obnoxious ringing of the telephone by the bed stand. Growling in frustration, he picked it up and turned it on. "'Allo?"  
  
"Legolas! Tell your bitchy ho Aragorn that he's a fuckin' idiot and he almost *killed* me!!"  
  
"Aragorn, you're a fucking idiot because you almost killed Pippin. Now why did you call me? I'm busy!"  
  
"Yeah, busy havin' a…"  
  
"Shut up, bitch," Legolas heard Pippin growl at Aragorn faintly on the other end. Sighing, the blonde man splashed his hands in the bubbles, watching the foam fly up into the air and land beside the tub.  
  
"Hurry up you guys I really…"  
  
"Leggie, I need you to do a big favour and fix us up a bed in the guest room," Pippin said quickly into his cell. "I don't care what you're doing in that stupid bathtub of yours, but we're nearly to the flat and we need you to do this for us."  
  
Legolas paused dramatically. "Bringing home a *friend* are we?"  
  
Pippin pouted audibly on the other end, snorting into the receiver. "Just do it, Elf-boy, no quessies asked until we show up. Now get your Elven behind in gear or else."  
  
"Yes, *Master*," Legolas mocked, hanging up abruptly. Sighing, he left the bubbly goodness of the bathtub, wrapped a towel about his waist and head off into the guest room.  
  
~*~  
  
Pippin tucked his cell back into his shirt pocket, turning his head to look sideways back at Elrond. "I can't believe you almost killed us back there," he nagged, reaching over to tug the blanket over Elrond's arm. "I don't believe you, Ranger boy, we have precious cargo back here!"  
  
"Alright, alright, *mother*," Aragorn snapped, glaring at the shorter of the three out of the corner of his eye. "I just wanted to get back home before he wakes up, geez, don't have a cow."  
  
"Bite me," Pippin muttered, gripping his seat until his knuckles turned white.  
  
"With pleasure," Aragorn murmured, taking a peek at Elrond through the mirror. The Elf lord lay still, his chest rising and falling with each short intake of breath, but no sign of him awakening was visibly shown. Aragorn began to wonder just how long Elrond lay in the grime before they unearthed him and his weapon, and why his body wasn't touched by decay, nonetheless his armour.  
  
The jeep pulled into the driveway a few moments later, safe and sound. Well, maybe not sound, but anyway…  
  
Pippin slammed the car door and opened up the back, grabbing the Elven sword, cursing when the sharp blade drew a fine line of blood across his palm. "Stupid Elvish weapons," he scowled, looking up at Aragorn. The man got into the back, squatting down behind the driver's seat and gathering the top half of the Elf into his arms. Pulling him out a little ways, he tucked one arm under Elrond's knees and lifted him up, shutting the door with his foot. Pippin darted on ahead, opening the front door and speeding up the stairs two at a time.  
  
Aragorn, however, took his time. It felt strange carrying his foster father of long ago, especially now that it was modern day and not back… then. He sighed mournfully. Rivendell. Imladris*. Lothlorien. Oh, how he missed them so.  
  
Elrond stirred slightly in his arms, the Elf burying his nose unconsciously into Aragorn's shirt. Ian smiled. At least the pieces of the puzzle were falling back in place.  
  
~*~  
  
"You have *what*?!"  
  
"Did you prepare the bed?"  
  
"You found *who*?!"  
  
"Did you prepare the bed?!"  
  
"Of course," Legolas said in return, waiting until Bryon was out of sight until he called, "Not."  
  
"RrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrADRIAN!!!!"  
  
"Shut your traps both of you and get the hell out of my way!" Aragorn came storming through the hallway, the 'precious cargo' in his arms. Legolas slammed back against the wall and stared at the body, blinking a few times in wonder. He paused, then trotted after his lover, stopping in the doorway in time to watch Aragorn lay the lord down on the bed gingerly, as if he feared he might break.  
  
"Oh my gods, where did you find him?"  
  
"Buried in dirt 'round the ruins of Rivendell," Pippin excitedly answered, coming out of the bathroom with a bowl of water a washcloth. "Can you believe it? Totally insane isn't it?"  
  
"If anything's totally insane, it's you," Aragorn singsonged, taking the bowl and dipping the washcloth into it. Pippin huffed, looking over at Legolas.  
  
"I'm trying to believe this as much as I can, but the last time… oh that is so hazy… that battle," Legolas moaned, sinking down into a chair opposite of the bed. "I need an Advil martini," he muttered, rubbing his temples. Eyeing the Elven lord he knew well, he continued, "What are we going to do with him? He's gonna wake up, yeah, and he's gonna have a fit. You know how he is/was," Legolas grinned, but that quickly faded. "The Twins are not even around, or so it seems, and he's gonna sink into depression at that."  
  
"At least Celeborn's gonna get a kick out of it," Pippin offered, sitting at a chair by the bed. He started to take off the leathery gloves when Aragorn stopped him.  
  
"Don't move anything," he warned, cleaning off the dirt on Elrond's face and ears. "Keep everything in its place."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I said so, and that's enough for you," he replied, dumping the washcloth back into the bowl. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he looked down at Elrond's ever ageless face. He got up and went to dump out the water when a moan, soft and strangely musical, elicited from the lord.  
  
Legolas shot up from the chair and stood over the bed, hand reaching down to tuck a few hairs behind the delicately pointed ear and stroke his cheek. "Elrond," he whispered, eyes flickering over his body. "Ai, Elrond, wake up."  
  
Aragorn and Pippin hovered over the still form, Aragorn grasping his hand. Legolas repeated his name softly, the life slowly trickling back into Elrond's body. Elrond shifted, eyebrows furrowing, his hazy grey eyes fluttering open. Legolas smiled down at him as Elrond's eyes came into focus, clearly looking up at the other standing above him. His mind, full of cobwebs, gathered more dust in confusion, wondering where he had seen that face before. Legolas grinned broadly. "Elrond!"  
  
Blink. He head heard that voice before. But it was deeper. Manly deeper. Elrond gasped. "Legolas!"  
  
The next thing Adrian knew was that he was lying on the floor, his cheek was burning, and Elrond was sitting up on his elbows, clearly startled and looking ready to kill. Aragorn and Pippin stole his attention immediately, and the obvious recognizable features of the once Hobbit and the man overwhelmed him and he fainted dead back against the pillows.  
  
~*~  
  
Notes:  
  
*Imladris – I know very well that Rivendell=Imladris, and visa versa, but I felt that both names should be there. Blech. *g* 


	5. May I?

NOTE: If the Evil Old Woman sees this, let it be known!  
  
I did not mention the colour of Celeborn's hair.  
  
May I make this clear? I did not want Celeborn's hair to be silver as his reincarnated form. His hair is dirty blonde and will later be a lovely shade of blue. Cannot take this? Don't read! Simple as that. Now, back to the fic at hand.  
  
And thanks for the lovely flame! It proved to be perfect for making s'mores. I got the marshmallow nice and toasty and they were delicious. I even had some leftovers of the flame to cook dinner! How nice.  
  
~*~  
  
"He slapped me!"  
  
"He fainted."  
  
"But he slapped me!"  
  
"Poor Elrond, I hope he didn't hurt his hand…"  
  
"Gee, thanks for the affectionate sympathy." Legolas glowered at the reincarnated Hobbit, pressing a bag of ice to his cheek. Aragorn threw him a sympathetic glance, tending to the Lord of Imladris a second time.  
  
"Just be happy that he wasn't already ticked off with you for fooling around with the Twins."  
  
"Hey, they came on to *me*!"  
  
"Oh enough, you children," Celeborn interjected, leaning against the doorway. "Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Why I don't know. It just needed to be said."  
  
"Oooooh, Celebebe, did you see the Elfie we found?" Pippin bounded over, renewed in happiness of his spectacular discovery, pointing at the fainted lord on the bed. "May we keep him? It's an Elrond and he was abandoned! He's all confused and everything, but he's real cute, and I promise to take good care of him!"  
  
Celeborn lifted a neat white eyebrow, staring at the Half-Elf on the silken sheets. "Uhhh…"  
  
"And I'll feed him good and I'll make sure to…"  
  
"Feed him *well*," Aragorn corrected automatically, lifting a damp cloth from the pale forehead.  
  
"Feed him *GOOD*," Pippin shot back, dimly aware of the scowl upon Legolas' lips.  
  
Padding quietly over to the figure, arms crossed, Celeborn stood at the bedside and peered down at he eternally youthful face. Sure was Elrond all right – no doubt about that. He caught sight of the pointed tip of the ear and paled slightly – he hadn't seen that since his rebirth, or in his dreams. Fingers unconsciously fingering the brink of his own ear, though there was no point to it, the tall man used all 42 muscles and frowned. "Where did you find him?"  
  
"Buried in some ruins out where we're digging."  
  
"Buried?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"What are we going to do with him?"  
  
"Keep him!"  
  
"And do what with him?" Legolas removed the ice pack from his cheek, rubbing it tenderly. "We have to get him out of that armour and into other clothes, we can give him this room, that means we're going to need to give him a modern name and age and where he came from, Rivendell is out of the question, which means we're going to have to alert the landlord about the addition, then we're going to have to give him another look because the long hair isn't in fashion right now and what about those ears? Plastic surgery perhaps, but it'll cost a fortune and I really don't have the money for that right, how about you Aragorn? Nah, didn't think so, that doesn't matter. Just as long as he doesn't use my Herbal Essence and oh by the way can he use someone else's clothes? I just got mine out of the wash."  
  
"Gee golly, Legolas, do you think you can come up with more ways to be more helpful in this situation?" Pippin sat on the edge of the bed, picking at the dirt caked shoes.  
  
Celeborn grinned as stormy gray eyes fluttered open, the confusion plastered all over Elrond's face making him giggle. The man scrunched up his face as if he were to talk to a little child. "Welcome back, Elrond m'love. Socked Legolas a good one, it's gonna leave a nice bruise, but he deserved it." He reached down and brushed away some hair. "I'm sure lying around in dirt for a few millennia isn't the greatest thing in the world, considering the worms and whatnot that lives in it, and boy have you been missing out on the rest of the world Mr. Elf-Man!"  
  
Elrond paused, blinking slowly up at the Cheshire grin on the hovering man. "I love you too."  
  
Aragorn patted his former foster father's arm comfortingly. "Don't worry, the confusion will pass."  
  
Elrond tiredly looked over at Aragorn. "Explain."  
  
Legolas threw the bag of ice at Celeborn's back, getting him to move out of the way. "This tale is getting older, like you, by the minute, but in short Gorny and Pippy unearthed you from dirt in the ruins of Rivendell, brought you here, you slapped me as soon as you awoke, and now I'm keeping my distance just in case it happens again."  
  
The Elf glared at the blonde human, feeling a serious headache coming on. "I still don't understand."  
  
"What don't you understand?" Pippin dragged the sword across the bedspread, cutting it daintily on its journey over to the Elf lord's side. Elrond glanced at it, recognizing it immediately and shaking his head.  
  
"That. Ai, Elbereth, this is too much."  
  
Celeborn perched himself on the side of the bed, stroking Elrond's dark locks. "Don't think about it now, hun, just rest. When you feel up to it we'll head on over to the Banana Republic or something and get you some nice clothes to wear. The armour has to go – don't look so horrified! We're going to save it, not toss it away!"  
  
"I think he's looking at your choice of clothing instead worrying about his armour, Poncy Boy," Legolas stated, staring pointedly at Celeborn's tight fishnet rainbow printed Pride shirt and choice of deep red tight leather pants, then at he exuberant bracelets and earrings. "ANYONE would be horrified to see you in THAT ridiculous regalia."  
  
Elrond quickly realized the people gathered in the room, and how all the attention was centered on him. He flushed a light pink and promptly tried to disappear into the covers, hating the focus on him. "My head hurts like the dickens, it's all too much…"  
  
"Agreed." Celeborn pushed him down to lie flat on his back, fingers deftly settling hair back in order and softly caressing delicate skin. "Sleep for awhile, if needed, and we'll leave you alone. Like I said, when you're ready, we'll take you out shopping." He stood, staring at the rest of them. "Well, why are you still here? Out, out, shoo! Get out!" Celeborn gently pushed them out the door, into the hallway. Turning around, he met the gaze of the one he knew would possibly never be the same. Crossing to bedside once more, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on Elrond's forehead. Walking over to the doorway, he paused and smiled back at the Peredhil. "Sweet dreams are made of this," he said softly, turned off the lights and closed the door behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
"You are such a hopeless romantic slut."  
  
Leon swirled his spoon around in his large yellow mug, a thoughtful look about his face. "Yes, well, can't help but ignite old romances when there's a dirty Elf in armour lying on a bed looking absolutely vulnerable and beautiful." He sat himself down on an overstuffed brown chair. Aragorn and Pippin had taken their leave, needing to get back to their dig. Legolas clicked his tongue, warming his hands on his own cup of tea.  
  
Picking up a tattered copy of "Phantom" by Susan Kay, Celeborn sighed wistfully. "If only he would remember me!"  
  
Legolas ticked his head to the side. "What?"  
  
Celeborn shrugged. "I dunno, just thought it needed that." Sitting back, he sipped on his coffee. "This certainly is a surprise. It worries me, though. He's only thing of Middle-Earth we have left – the Rivendell ruins won't do us any good. He's most likely the only Elf left in the world, as far as I know, and this a big responsibility."  
  
Legolas nodded grimly. "If word gets out we're hoarding a real live Elf, or Half-Elf for all it matters, in our flat, things are going to do a major belly flop."  
  
Puckering his lips, Leon chewed on the inside of his lip. "Not much we can do about it now. Let's just sit back and let it all happen, okay?" Plucking a bag of Corn Nuts from its wedged spot between the cushion and armrest, Celeborn peered at its contents. "Oh, gross. It's growing hair." Throwing it onto the coffee table, he continued dejectedly, "And I was hungry and I love those, too."  
  
"Oh, my sweet baby," Legolas cooed, leaning forward and setting down his cup. "What can Leggie do to make it all better?"  
  
"Let Celebebe bonk that Elf in the other room and let him borrow your clothes?"  
  
"Never." Legolas stood, stepping up the platform into the kitchen and opening the fridge. "Especially that part about my clothes."  
  
"Ho hum." Celeborn looked over in the other man's direction. "Is that cake you're getting out?"  
  
Stopping like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Legolas quickly pulled the plate out. "No, of course not…"  
  
"That is! You little thief! Hand it over or no Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia for you tonight!"  
  
"No, spare me please!" Legolas laughed, swiping the plate of rich chocolate cake away from Celeborn's grasp, giggling and holding it out in front of him when the other adult caught him from behind, hugging his waist. "You'll never get it, over my dead body you will!"  
  
"So be it," Leon snarled, biting playfully down on Adrian's exposed shoulder. With that distraction he managed to steal the cake from his roommate, expertly flying up the stairs and onto a beam crossing right over Legolas' head, sitting down upon it. Picking up a large piece he slowly ate it, all the tantalizing moans included. Legolas pouted down below, stomping his foot.  
  
"I hate gymnasts. I really hate poncy gymnasts like you."  
  
"Don't forget to send a fruit basket along with your flames!"  
  
"I'll get you a basket to sit in, then."  
  
"Har har. No cake for you."  
  
"Damn." 


	6. The Wonders of a Bathroom

Elrond stared at the clothes laid out in front of him. He raised a lean, curved eyebrow skywards, his hand twitching faintly. He blinked once, twice, then looked up at Legolas. "You've got to be fucking joking…"  
  
Legolas pouted, reaching over and taking up the black pants. "Oh, come on, I think you'd look great in black, Elly!"  
  
"No, it's not that… just *look* at that *waist*… how much do you *weigh* for Elbereth's sake?!"  
  
The ex-Elf rolled his eyes, hand on hip. "None of your business. Anyway, trust me. It'll fit you like your boyfriend."  
  
Elrond blushed furiously, snatching the pants from Legolas. "I appreciate your offer, but honestly - *look* at these!" He held them up to his waist. "They're so *small* I'm surprised… actually, no I'm not. I can see you wearing these."  
  
Adrian pouted cutely, as it was his nature, and picked up the sleeveless black shirt from the bed. "This'll look great on you, sweetie… Celeborn will absolutely *die* when he sees you in this." He raised his eyebrows up at the Peredhel. "And about those pants, you're also wearing that bulky armour; once you take that stuff off, you'll see how well you fit into those."  
  
Like a hurt puppy, Elrond touched the chest armour, his eyebrows lowering as he began to nibble on his bottom lip. "I'm very fond of my armour…"  
  
Legolas threw up his hands. "Just strip down! Hell, take a bath, even. Wash up a little from sitting around in dirt. Just put on those clothes!" Throwing the shirt and pants back onto the bed, the blonde stalked out of the room and closed the door.  
  
Elrond, after waiting a few minutes for it to sink in, began to slowly remove his garments. It felt odd taking off his familiar armoury – it was almost as if he was stripping memories along with clothes. After laying out each and every piece of armour delicately on the bed, a towel wrapped securely about his waist, he shuffled into the conjoining bathroom to inspect.  
  
The Half-Elf stood gawking at the strange objects, half wondering what they are and what they do, half wondering if they bite. Wincing at the cold tile sinking into the leathery soles of his feet, Elrond made his way to the bathtub.  
  
Bending over to get a good look at the strange looking metal knobs and spout, Elrond reached over and turned the one with the letter 'C' on it, jumping back when water gushed out from the faucet. Regaining his wits and control of his heart, he gave the one with the 'H' the same treatment, amused when even more water spouted into the marble tub.  
  
Looking around curiously, Elrond grimaced in distaste at the shower curtains. A dark purple did not suit the cream and coffee coloured bathroom. And those misty green tiles? Shaking his head, he frowned at the water slowly rising in the bathtub. Such a loud noise, most unnecessary. Shrugging, he picked up and looked over a little pink bottle and several other large white bottles with writings and silly pictures all over them. He wondered what they were. He'd find out later, though. He wanted to know what that standing bowl-type thing in the corner was, first.  
  
Walking over and lifting up the top lid, Elrond peeked into the water and drain inside and at the inner lid, fascinated for some unknown reason. He pondered why Legolas would have such a strange, hideous contraption in his household, but it wasn't any of his business. A silver knob caught his eye, and, on instinct, he moved his hand and bopped it.  
  
Elrond jumped back, horrified, at the loud roaring sound eliciting from it as a result, widened eyes blinking at it as if it he expected it to lash out and bite him. When it didn't, he cautiously inched back over and looked inside to see the water that was previously there twist in a small whirlpool and disappear down that drain. What amazed him the most was that the water instantly returned to fill it back up again. Elrond grinned. How strange.  
  
His attentions turned back to the tub when he felt warm water trickling under his feet, something that wasn't that pleasant in his tastes. Turning around, Elrond gasped, dashing over and turning the knobs the way he had before. Finding that wasn't helping at all, he tried the opposite way. Relieved and bemused as the water stopped flowing, Elrond looked down to examine the destruction. Not *too* much water had escaped, but he remembered that once someone steps into a tub, the water rises a bit with the weight and form. He was obliged to pull the plug at the bottom, delighted in the warm sensation of the water. He plugged it back up when he felt the water was at a good level.  
  
Shedding the towel around his waist, Elrond climbed into the water, smiling briefly at the comfort it brought to his aching, dirty body. He sat washing off the dirt for a few minutes, ducking under to wet his hair. Rising back to the surface he chose this time to look at those peculiar bottles again.  
  
Elrond picked up the nearest bottle, a square, bulky one filled with a thick green liquid. He could read the first word, and the one at the bottom, as they were 'herbal' and 'shampoo'. Shampoo. He flipped it over. Directions were on a clear label. Pour into hand. Rub into hair. Rinse. Pour into hand. Rub into hair. Rinse thoroughly. Keep away from eyes and mouth. Do not give to children under four. Sounds easy. Let's give it a whirl.  
  
Twisting the cap, Elrond removed it from the bottle, hissing when more than expected flowed onto his hand. Quickly screwing the top back on, the Peredhel plopped the thick shampoo on the top of his head, gathering up his long hair and began to wash it.  
  
Soon enough he was done, but there were other mysterious little bottles calling for his attention. Elrond chose the little pink one he was fondling earlier. There wasn't anything on it, it was just milky and smooth. Deciding to keep it as a pet, he set it aside to probe at the others. He found soaps in liquid forms, that of which he used, and when he was feeling ready he pulled the plug and stepped out of the tub, wrapping the towel he had set aside around his waist once more.  
  
His pink bottle firmly clutched in his hand, the Lord of the Valley returned to the bedroom to dry himself off. Once finished with that task, Elrond pulled on the necessity underclothes and pondered the black pants. Legolas was utterly insane, he thought to himself. Shrugging, he stood and began to dress.  
  
~***~  
  
Celeborn balanced the evening paper on his knee, sipping idly at his cup of coffee he had made ten minutes prior. He had changed his clothes after Legolas brutally attacked him with a scissors and snipped off and up his flamboyant rainbow shirt, much to his dismay. He was now decked comfortably in black jeans and a big long-sleeved grey shirt. His earrings had been reduced to silver studs and little silver hoops, while his bracelets were now only a couple red and yellow ones.  
  
Legolas raised his eyebrow at the text in his book, sipping noisily at his cold tea. Celeborn glared at him over the brim of his own cup, snorting into the mug. The opposing blonde only sighed. "I wonder how Elrond is doing. It's been at least an hour."  
  
Celeborn gawked at him. "You released our dear friend Elrond into a foreign bathroom? Are you out of your *mind*?" He shoved the paper aside, setting his mug down. "This is ELROND, here! You can't just push him into things like that! You've got to show him what things are and what they do! How's he gonna know what the toilet is – he might even end up breaking it, he's so damn curious…"  
  
Legolas threw his hands up in front of his chest to ward away Celeborn's wrath. "Down, boy! Down! Now now, I figured he'd test things out and ask us about them, but it's probably best if he tried to figure it out himself."  
  
"You'd make *such* a good parent." Mockingly, "Go ahead sweetie, go into the kitchen were all the sharp knives and forks and electrical outlets are and try to figure it all out on your own without killing yourself, chopping off an appendage, or electrocuting yourself. Oh yes, what a wonderful tutor."  
  
"Sour, sour, sour," Legolas chanted. "You're just… oh, I *KNEW* those pants would look marvelous on you! You can't deny it, look at you, you pretty thing…"  
  
Celeborn twisted around, jaw hitting the floor and down to the first layer of concrete at the sight of the Peredhel's new attire.  
  
Elrond stood tall and lanky, the semi-tight black pants clinging elegantly to his muscled legs, the bottoms pooling at his feet adding to the effect. A silver belt encircled his surprisingly very slim waist, showing off his lean hips. The sleeveless shirt Elrond wore proudly bared implications of where the firm, powerful chest was rounded at all the right spots; it even gave a hint that he had a near six pack underneath. His arms were thin but sported defined biceps, from his elbow muscle to his wrist lean. The shirt amazingly proved how big his hands really were, his fingers thin yet a little fat due to being Half-Elf.  
  
The dark raven hair was pulled back into its usual side braids that were placed with a clip on the back of his head, his clean, silky locks folding over his broad shoulders like a cape strewn beautifully over a chair. Now that the dirt and whatnot was cleaned off his ageless facial features, his eyes were thin and dark, eyebrows arched in an ever-questioning shape, cheekbones defined and his lips slender. Elrond's beauty rivaled that of his daughter back in the lost days, and rose above that of modern appearances.  
  
Legolas beamed gloriously, proudly standing beside him and looking at Celeborn. "Well?"  
  
Fumbling, Celeborn stood, shakily trying to find real words to describe his astounded opinion on Elrond's demeanor. Elrond's eyes met his and he basically melted under the gaze. "He's hot shit, Legolas. Sexy, beautiful, hot. Oh gods above, thank you for bringing him back to us…"  
  
Elrond rewarded him with a real smile, baring spotless white teeth. Legolas patted his shoulder fondly. "Your boyfriend loves it, and so do I. Oooh, just WAIT till the others see you..!!" Adrian kissed his cheek like any good friend would and bopped off happily, still talking, into his room to get on the phone and brag till the end of the world.  
  
The two remaining stood in silence, looking at the joyful man's leaving backside for a long moment. Elrond moved first, turning his head to look at Celeborn. Celeborn returned the stare, answering the unasked question, stepping over the couch and embracing the Half-Elf tightly. Elrond buried his nose into the short blonde hair, hugging the man strongly. He was hard enough to believe everything that's already happened, but now… it all seemed like a piece of cake, standing there in his love's arms.  
  
Leon reached up to fondle the dark hair lovingly, the silk in his fingers unlike any other. He traced his index finger over Elrond's cheekbone and down to his chin, marveling at the soft yet firm skin under his touch. It was so unreal but so authentic; it nearly blew him away. Pulling apart partially Celeborn then closed the space into the much-awaited kiss, the arms around him tightening and drawing him closer.  
  
Elrond sighed against the other's lips, reluctantly leaving the warmth to look him over. The smile rose to his lips again, his face softening. "Finally."  
  
Celeborn entangled his fingers into Elrond's hair, brandishing one of his own cheeky smiles. "Finally." He leaned over and kissed him again, tenderly. "Been waiting for you. And I'll say it truthfully, I've only had two minor boyfriends, neither as satisfying as you, dear Elfie."  
  
An eyebrow arched. "Oh, really? It's good to know I'm not up for competition."  
  
"The competition you're only up for is something you and I both know very, *very* well."  
  
Elrond smirked. "Indeed." He stole a quick kiss from Celeborn's lips. "I just hope I'm not going to lose that touch."  
  
"Hmm… care to find out?"  
  
"Of *course*. I would *never* pass up a chance to..."  
  
His saucy comment ended as Legolas barged right back into the room, stopping dead at the sight. He managed a weak smile. "Oh. Dear. I didn't see this, I didn't see this," he repeated, shielding his eyes with his hand and bustling back into the room. Rolling his eyes, Celeborn called out after him.  
  
"Jeez, Legolas, and to think that you're the fruitiest one here."  
  
"Shut up or else I'll take away your smelly soaps and confiscate your chocolate whipped cream so you can't use it on Elrond!"  
  
Elrond's eyebrows raised high, an entertained look rearing its head in his grey eyes. Celeborn smirked. "You do that and I'll tell Gorny about the you know what and the you know who in the you know where!"  
  
Legolas squeaked indignantly. "Fine, fine. Just don't make *too* much noise."  
  
Celeborn nudged his nose against Elrond's jaw. "And he's the one talking."  
  
"Heard that!"  
  
"C'mon, Elrond – I've got a problem and we need to solve it."  
  
"Heard that too!"  
  
Leon sighed. Ignoring the blonde in the other room, he pulled Elrond into the bedroom, shutting the door and locking it.  
  
Legolas crept out of his closet, straining his ears until what he heard he was satisfied with. Grabbing the nearest portable phone, he snuck back into his rightful room and dialed eagerly. "Merry? Hey, it's Legolas. I need you to do a big favour for me that involves pizza, chocolate, and a big surprise… why? Well, let me start from the beginning…" 


	7. *Commentaries, not actual chapter

Comments: Okay, since everyone is getting confused, let's lay out the cast list.  
  
Legolas – Adrian  
  
Pippin – Bryon  
  
Aragorn – Ian  
  
Celeborn – Leon  
  
Elrond – No telling! It's a secret. ^____^  
  
Merry – Chris  
  
Frodo – Mark  
  
  
  
More will be added when more people appear. ^_^ Sorry for the confusion.  
  
And, sarcasm not included, for the terrible dress code set out for Celeborn. ^^;; Just couldn't resist.  
  
-Kalen 


End file.
